


Death in Paradise Alternative Universe Season 3 – Episode 4: Neither Here nor There.

by HeatherTN



Series: Death In Paradise Alternative Universe Series Three [4]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Medical Procedures, Out of Body Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:52:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherTN/pseuds/HeatherTN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My 'Fourth Episode' in A 'Death in Paradise Alternative Universe Series 3'</p><p>Richard is gravely ill but even in his unconscious state, both he and his team end up reflecting on his time on Saint-Marie.</p><p>*Warning* This episode is a bit angsty, and also will have some un-canon supernatural aspects with one of the characters. If anyone feels they might be offended about that and any profanity that might be featured, then please don't be so daft as to read this then moan about it afterwards.</p><p> </p><p>Update 9.11.2013: Added scene to Chapter 4. Thanks to Million_Moments for the suggestion :D XXXX</p><p>The characters and concept of Death in Paradise belongs to Robert Thorogood and Red Planet Productions. Just borrowing ‘em for a little bit until after supper. Other original characters are all mine!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Camille sat close to the bedside holding his hand, trying her best to ignore the quiet rhythmic hiss of the life support machine on the opposite side of the bed she was sitting by.  She had been holding his hand for a while but loosened her grip as she felt her palm cramp up.

Her mind drifted back to the previous few hours and her skin began to crawl at how close they had been to losing him, how that could still happen, but Camille had faith he would be too stubborn to die.

Earlier in the afternoon she had been interviewing a witness when Richard Poole had all but staggered into the small station instead of resting up. He had discharged himself from the local hospital the day before after being beaten up and then locked in a remote cold storage place.  The team had got there just in time to break him out, but Richard had been left with a concussion and also had a chest infection.  When he had walked into the station he looked really ill, pale, shaking and rasping, insisting that he needed to work, however a few minutes later he had collapsed and stopped breathing. Camille remembered what happened next with almost high definition clarity.

 

“Merde!! Dwayne!! Fidel get here quick!!! Richard’s collapsed!!” Camille shouted

Dwayne and Fidel rushed back in from the veranda while Camille started cardiopulmonary resuscitation by applying the first thirty compressions on Richard’s breastbone, with Fidel giving two mouth to mouth rescue breaths in between.  

Dwayne phoned for an ambulance and rushed out to grab the public AED* mounted near the entrance of the station.  Their witness, Marie Lautier had joined in with the resuscitation attempt as Camille and Fidel swapped places every so often.

They carried on, not even noticing the paramedics who were rushing in through the doors.  Dwayne had placed the pads from the AED on Richard’s chest after ripping his shirt open, turned on the machine and was about to press the button when Richard had lurched and started coughing, but was still not fully conscious.

The two paramedics stepped in, checking Richard’s airway and putting an oxygen mask in place before turning Richard on to his side.  Richard was breathing and his three colleagues quietly sighed with relief

“Inspector Poole, can you hear me, nod your head if you can..”  One of the paramedics said, while giving Richard a gentle shake.

Richard’s eyes flickered open as he nodded his head. He then began to groan, rolling on to his back and then started to sit up.  He was grimacing in pain and began to literally start wheezing. 

“Richard, stay still!” warned Camille, she was kneeling behind him, trying to support him but nearly fell back when Richard attempted to stand despite Dwayne, Fidel and two paramedics trying to persuade him otherwise.  He managed to get on to his knees while starting to push those around him away, but had suddenly stiffened and toppled backwards with a groan, clutching his left side.

Eventually, after some persuasion Richard was secured on to the stretcher and wheeled out of the building.  Quite a crowd had gathered as those on the street by the square had seen the ambulance arrive with blue lights flashing and sirens wailing, but there was only a quiet murmur as the crew loaded their patient in to the vehicle.  Camille had joined them after quickly thanking Marie for her help, with Dwayne and Fidel bringing up the rear in the Defender.

The drama had not ended there.  Once at the hospital, Richard was taken in to the small triage area and Camille could only watch as the crash team crowded round the stretcher before disappearing through large doors.  She had overheard the quiet but urgent conversations with words such as ‘possible tension pneumo-thorax’, possible 'pi' from a ‘dvt’, pneumonia, respiratory arrest, arrhythmias, some of those she knew but the others sounded frightening. 

She, Dwayne and Fidel were ushered in to a small waiting room as a call via Fidel’s mobile confirmed Molly was manning the station and would be soon joined by a couple of the other part time staff until such time one of the team got back. Commissioner Patterson had been informed and was on his way.  But all conversation had stopped when they heard a loud alarm and the feet of more medical staff rushing into the triage area.

Still waiting for news after what seemed an eternity later, the team were joined by Commissioner Paterson then eventually, Dr Adrian Rutherford entered the room, his face unreadable.

“How is Inspector Poole fairing? “ Patterson asked quietly.

Adrian folded his arms, looking at the team one by one.

“It’s not good I’m afraid, Inspector Poole is critically ill with something called Sudden Respiratory Distress Syndrome.  It’s where the whole body starts to collapse when the lungs become compromised in this case as a result of a severe chest infection. He has pneumonia and a tear in the lining of his left lung.  He’s already had to be resuscitated twice, once by yourselves and also again while we were trying to stabilise his condition enough with the plan of getting him over the Basse-Terre. Sadly that cannot happen as he’s just too ill to be moved.”

Camille had only managed to digest half of what Adrian had told them, but what sunk in was the fact Richard had stopped breathing twice, that he was too ill to be moved to a larger hospital in Guadeloupe.  
  
“When can we expect to see Inspector Poole recovered enough to be discharged?” Commissioner Patterson asked, clearly he hadn’t taken in a lot of what Adrian had told them either.

“Recover?  Selwyn, I don’t even know if Inspector Poole will last the night.  We’re doing our best but I have no idea what will happen.”

“Are we gonna be able to sit with him?”  Dwayne had asked, breaking the silence which had fallen over the room.

Adrian slowly nodded.

“I’ll let Mary know.  But no more than one or two at the bedside ok?”

The others nodded.  After some discussion, it was decided that Dwayne and Fidel would return to the station, take over from Marcus and finish up, with Fidel insisting he would take on call for that night.  Commissioner Patterson looked at his team, nodded his head and turned to leave.

“Keep me informed.”  He said and departed.

As was customary on Saint-Marie, those close to someone who was critically ill would remain at the patient’s side for twenty four hours a day and often were allowed to join in with giving personal care at the hospital, depending on the circumstances.  Although Richard Poole was not a Saint-Marie native, did not have any family on the island and would often be heard loudly complaining about living in the tropics, he had become a much respected figure, his peculiarities regarded with patient amusement.  There was no way Camille, Dwayne, Fidel and even Commissioner Patterson would leave Richard alone in a hospital bed so far away from his own home.

 

  
Now Camille stretched back in her chair, noting the gentle hiss and pump of the ventilator thing that was keeping Richard alive. He was covered in monitor pads, IV lines in both arms and one set in to a vein just above his left collar bone.  He was naked apart from a sheet covering the lower half of his body from under which more tubes appeared connected to bags. In fact, Camille thought, she could see more tubes and pads than she could of her friend.

Gently, she took his hand again and felt the cold clammy skin, despite the main problem being in getting Richard’s temperature down as much as anything else.  The rest of what she could see of him was pale and he looked so small, so reduced in stature, so vulnerable.  Camille felt the tears prickling then suddenly flowing down her cheeks and jumped at the quiet voice behind her.

“You ok Camille?”

She turned her head around to see Casper crouching down by the chair she was sat in and nodded, and accepted the tissue he was handing her.

“I’m ok, just..just hate the fact the he’s so….” Camille could not continue and so just sat squeezing the hand of the irritating, pedantic, uptight, suit wearing, funny, brilliant and underneath the gruff exterior, a compassionate lonely man with a big heart...

The man she loved.

 

*Automatic External Defibrillator


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard remains in a critical state but has support from a surprising source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - This is the 'supernatural' bit and there's a tiny bit of profanity so if you don't like such things, don't read!

Casper looked at Camille, feeling the strength of her love for the Englishman that she was only beginning to be aware of. He placed his hand on her arm to give her comfort but could offer no more than that.

Camille looked up at him and nodded too, realising that right now no one was sure how things were going to pan out and all they *could* do was hope. Casper had seen part of the Englishman leave and would neither be here nor there. Casper knew then two things had to happen if Poole were to stand any chance of survival, which was first to make that decision to return and second that he still had a body to come back into.

Despite holding a Doctorate in Nursing via Duke University, a PhD in fertility studies and a raft of other medical and scientific qualifications, Casper never denied the gift he was born with that only the Creole could understand and on Saint-Marie he was fully accepted with both talents, especially when he was asked to take over from Angelique Morell. Her death was a tragedy but at least now she and Delilah could be at peace in the other place.

He had realised his gift, which was rare indeed, after his grandparents visited him as a child. They had been killed in a fire at a granary a number of years before and had never met Casper in his waking life but he was of an age now he could see and understand. Casper told his mother of their visit and who was originally sceptical until Casper told her details about her deceased Mother that he would have not otherwise known.

Being accepted in to the Voodoo community because of his gift was not difficult, but his mother ensured Casper had a normal childhood. He did very well at school, excelling in the natural sciences and developing a passion for cricket as a sport.

But still despite the Catholic traditions of his school, he spent most evenings after his homework, sitting with his parents learning about _Bondye_ and the _Loa_ , those who acted on behalf of _Bondye_ , two of which were invoked more often than the rest and who Casper would be invoking a lot in his future life, both _Papa Legba_ and _Erzulie Freda_ confirmed this during rituals.

In Casper’s waking life, he was to become a Registered Nurse, and Saint-Marie’s first male midwife who practiced both with his partner Tracey Batton. His PhD in Fertility Studies and subsequent paper on the effect of RNA changes and links to congenital disorders had been hailed in the scientific communities, but all Casper wanted to do afterwards was to go home.

And here he was now, dividing his time as a high dependency nurse and midwife, and more recently as a _Mobo_ to the local community. But unlike Angelique, Casper preferred not to hold meetings on the beach but quietly counsel those in the way and to give comfort where he could. He left the potions and ceremonies to others but did partake in the rituals.

He continued to see the dead as well and occasionally spoke to them but never invoked as they would need their year and a day to choose. He just hoped that Poole would choose to come back as his departure would be too early. There was so much more left for the Englishman to do in this life.

After a quiet prayer to _Papa Legba_ for Poole’s return, Casper stood up to continue with his work but not before acknowledging the spirit of a middle aged woman standing by the bedside opposite to Camille, stroking her son’s forehead.

 

_She had felt his stretching in to this place, so undecided and scared while his broken and exhausted body lay struggling in the real time and had gone back over to soothe him like she did when he was a little boy. She was surprised by the male nurse who was trying to comfort the beautiful young woman sat by Richard who was holding her son’s hand. The nurse had looked Margaret right in the eye and had nodded. She then returned to the Other Place._

_Her heart was broken, even in this beautiful scene she had now found herself walking through when she spotted her little boy sat on the beach with his arms wrapped round his knees,_ _crying. She saw the pain of his life and berated herself for her part in it._

_‘Oh Richard, I am so sorry..’ She whispered and quickened her pace. She could only do what a Mother should, and that was to give her child the chance of a better future._

_She was sitting by her son, now an adolescent at the awkward stage where his limbs grew before anything else. She remembered during the holidays when Richard would be home from school, how he would spend most of his time in his room._

_It usually took some coaxing to get him to come down for meals where her asshole of a husband would take delight in berating his son for getting two B grades in the school reports, forgetting the other five A’s. Richard usually did not respond, eating in silence and returning to his room. Eventually it was easier to leave his meals outside his door. Such was the dysfunction in their house._

_Once, she had attended a school cricket match and was proud at her son’s agility both as batsman and fielder. When it came to breaking for tea, she noticed how Richard got only a cursory thanks from his team, and then would be ignored by the majority of them in the tea room. It was then she realised she was sharing his memories._

_Next came a happier memory, when because of his good work and despite Albert’s grumbles, it was decided to give Richard a decent Christmas present as he had shown such an interest in astronomy. The look on his face when he opened the huge box containing the telescope was more than worth the expense. Later in the year when Richard had spent most of his allowance travelling up to Regents Park to join a group of astronomers, he had told her someone had taken a photo of the group as the sky was so clear and ‘Lucy’ was the main feature. She had asked Richard why he had named his telescope (it’s not a telescope Mum but a precision optical instrument!) ‘Lucy’ and had loved his answer._

_‘..after The Beatles song Mum, y’know the one, ‘Lucy in The Sky with Diamonds’._

Camille awoke with a start from a gentle tap on her shoulder. The other two nurses, Mary and Cybil, were standing at the foot of the bed, armed with a trolley laden with sheets and toiletries. Mary spoke gently.

“You were out for the count! Look, we need to give Richard some personal care that will take a while. Why don’t you take a break? You’re more than welcome to use the staff room, plenty of coffee in there and a balcony out back.” She said with a smile.

Camille pursed her lips, “Thank you, I do need to stretch my legs” she replied.  She slowly let go of Richard’s hand and eased herself up on to her feet, feeling stiff and sore after sitting for so long without moving.  Smiling at the two nurses, Camille left the treatment area.

 

_Now her son had become a little boy again, reliving the terrible moment he had come back from infant school to find his little kitten dead by the shed wall, where the little thing had landed after Albert had kicked her. Ever since then Richard had developed an irrational dislike of cats which was sad since the cat was not at fault. But she could see now why he otherwise preferred animals to humans a lot of the time, and felt his utter devastation after Laddie had been run down and killed._

_“Richard….” She whispered, “I am so sorry sweetheart, I’ve let you down so badly..” now facing a young adult with dyed blond hair and a silver earring through his left earlobe._

_“S’ok Mum, I know you were trapped in to a way of thinking and living. I am so sorry I couldn’t get you away from Dad. We both got trapped in that abusive cycle, didn’t we?”_

_She looked again and saw the man she did not live long enough to see him becoming after his secondment to Saint-Marie. And he was crying again._

_“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get home! I did try, honest Mum, I did, honest…..”_

_Her arms went around her son as he wept, and she wept too._

Camille leaned on door frame, staring out over the lights of Honoré Bay, reliving the moment she and Richard had first clapped eyes on each other, then again after she was caught near James Lavender’s boat. Despite the tears rolling down her cheeks, she had a little giggle at the fact she was in the blue bikini which he didn’t seem to notice at the time, but blushed bright crimson at the sight of her in it again when they all went for that swim a while back.

She thought of the times when they argued, when he would blow and of the dressing down she gave him on their first case together. She had nearly broken a nail from poking him in the chest so hard during her rant, yet he took it and didn’t discipline her after which he had every right to do.

She thought of the number of times when he would be so stubborn decrying intuition yet she knew he used his as much as she used hers, but it was his ability for detail and how he could put the impossible together and get a result. She remembered his kindness, how he kept his word about the Palladium, authorising the handing back of stolen medication as ‘personal’ property so a secret clinic could continue and so much more that Richard had kept secret.

She saw him gradually become more involved in the local community, and although he would never be ever completely willing to blend in to Saint-Marie life with his suit, tie and pyjamas, he was already half way there, even ‘adopting’ the small lizard who regularly visited his home on the beach.

But all those memories faded behind the one which had broken her heart. The one of him breaking down after his return from England and how tired he was. And her heart was breaking for him now because here he was, desperately ill, with no one in the UK appearing to give a damn as there had been no phone calls to enquire after him. His own father had hung up the phone after delivering a barrage of abuse that could be heard clear across the Intensive Care Unit, and for what? Because he was good at his job but nobody cared.

Richard had tried so hard to please everyone and eventually built up such a barrier around himself because there was no point in trying any more, and so he had stuck with what he could do best. But yet despite of and maybe because of that, he had endeared himself to an entire island who respected him and he had begun to respond.

But now he may not have the chance to continue because he was possibly dying. That loss of potential for him to be finally happy in his own way was what was breaking her heart the most. At that point Camille stopped thinking and quietly began to sob.

 

_They were now standing looking out over the ideal blue ocean on the golden beach. But her son couldn’t see the beauty of it._

_“Richard, it is lovely here but you can’t stay.” Margaret said._

_He didn’t look at her, just placed his hands behind his back then rising up on his toes for a moment, the barriers he had built up over a lifetime came back with shocking force._

_“Richard, look at me when I am talking to you!”_

_He stopped and hung his head low, the barriers dropped._

_“Sorry Mum. It’s just I can see what a mess I have made of things, all those people I was rude to because I let bloody Doug Anderson get to me. Because I can never say the right thing, because I was stupid enough to get married to… what’s the point Mum? At least here I can be alone, I can avoid making mistakes, upsetting people, never quite being good enough or being so... getting involved with the wrong type of woman. l discovered I like my own company anyway…”_

_She stood in front of her son, firmly placing her hands on his arms, angling her head so he could not escape her gaze._

_“Now you listen to me young man! You are the *best* thing that has happened to me and yes I stuffed that up as well. But you need to know something. Whatever personality you developed because of your upbringing you have survived! You work in an job where God knows, it is tough enough having to deal with all the crime, murders, what have you and you still manage to keep a level head. Yes, you are pedantic but also methodical, *very* observant, a good analytical brain, sharp, strong…don’t look away when I am talking to you!..Yes, and strong Richard!”_

_His head was still hanging while she talked._

_“So those idiots at the Met are more interested in how you look and how popular you have to be and let someone like what’s his name, Anderson bully you. But you hung in there Richard, you continued to do your job! Yes, they sent you to Saint-Marie and I know a part of you is coming to realise that is the best thing they have done and you have found a home here. People respect you, they put up with your ways for sure but you have never patronised or looked down on any of the community here, you might not like the climate or the culture but you *are* in the best place you can be because you can *finally* have a life, and maybe find some happiness too. And further more I could not be any more proud of what you have achieved in London *and* Saint-Marie….”_

_She turned him around to face the tree line behind him, edged by perfect palms which began to part towards a path._

_“You know, for all that you say you miss London Richard, you have your resting place in the form of a tropical beach. Why?”_

_He looked at her and paused for a moment, then spoke._

_“Because the sea is calming, it’s peaceful..and, and beautiful. I love it here Mum. I tried to make London my place to be but all it had was pain. I’m tired of pain.”_

_“Pain is a part of life Richard and yes I can understand why you are tired of it, but like I've just said you are much stronger than you think. Now, it’s time for you to go back.”_

_He found himself looking down the path to a scene where a woman was standing in a doorway, crying and he could see her thoughts, his mouth agape at the reasons why. He turned back to his mother and started to speak.._

_“Don’t turn away, keep looking!” She said_

_Next he saw a young couple. They were hugging and the woman stepping back a bit to wipe her husband’s eyes. He could see their thoughts and the reasons why._

_“Look again Richard.”_

_He saw a middle aged man in his police uniform sat on a step with a bottle of rum. The man poured himself a shot into a glass. Richard heard him say ‘Here’s to you Chief. Don’t go leaving us, eh.”_

_He saw a beautiful middle aged woman cleaning up a bar but her face was like stone. He could see her thoughts, then…_

_“Enough!” Richard cried out. “Mum!”_

_“Don’t you get it Sweetheart! These people actually *love* you! And that’s just your colleagues!”_

_Now she was standing behind him._

_“You have to go back. Maybe you won’t survive there and will be here again soon. But maybe if you take a risk, you will stay there for a very long time because there is still so much to do. You won’t remember this, but that young lady is the key; your future lies with her Richard, with her.”_

_He looked again and saw the woman sat at the bedside of someone who appeared to be very ill, and holding the person’s hand. At that moment, Richard felt that touch and realised the person in the bed was him._

_“Take the risk Richard, do me and yourself proud and I hope you realise that I am at peace now, please go and have what I gave birth to you for, a good life.”_

_He looked at her for one last time and gave her a hug._

_“Love you Mum.” He said and with a wave, started walking down the path back to his life._

 

Camille sat bolt upright as Richard suddenly began shaking then seemed to jump. The alarms started ringing on the machinery monitoring his body but had stopped again in the next instant. Casper was by Richard’s side with Dr Rutherford close behind.

“What happened?” She asked with alarm.

Casper looked at Adrian and fiddled a bit with the machinery.

“It’s ok Camille, it happens sometimes, just the muscles having a bit of a twitch." Casper replied calmly.

Adrian Rutherford nodded in agreement then spoke.

“Yes it does but just to make sure, Casper take some blood for an ABG check.”

Casper quickly took some blood out of one of the IV lines in Richard's right wrist and when done, smiling at Camille as he passed by out towards a treatment room. Once out of Camille's earshot, Adrian pulled Casper aside for a brief moment.

“Hmm, well Casper, you’re the mystic around here” Adrian said quietly, “ what do you think?”

“He’s back, no doubt about it.” Casper replied

“Well then, we had better make sure our Detective Inspector still has a body he can keep using.” Adrian said, smiling, “his temperature is returning within normal limits and is O2 saturation appears to be stabilising at ninety three percent all of a sudden. If we can start shifting some of that crap out of his lungs, get the chest drains out and keep his kidneys fired up, hopefully we can have him off Bessie and on to a Bi-Pap by tomorrow or Wednesday”

Casper smiled back at Adrian, then at the woman who appeared next to Richard.

“Thanks.” He whispered as she waved back before fading away..


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fidel, Dwayne, Commissioner Patterson and Catherine reflect about Detective Inspector Richard Poole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting there, honest! XXX

Fidel leaned back in to the wooden chair from his desk, where he had spent the last three hours not seeing the words in the files he had been leafing through.  The whole day and now the night had been like a nightmare.  Richard Poole, in the last eight months or so had turned from an irritating, precise but brilliant English Detective who Fidel was determined to win around, to almost being a member of Fidel’s family. 

When the Chief first arrived on Saint-Marie, no one knew what to make of him.  Certainly there were fears that the Station had another low performing or unpopular DI dumped on them, that's not to say that Charlie Hulme wasn't a good policeman, but he wasn’t one to encourage his team, and Fidel felt could be a bit patronising.  With the Chief, the team could see why he had been left in Saint-Marie and obviously why he wasn’t popular back in England, but he was brilliant, even though his first case was to expose Lilly Thompson as Hulme’s murderer and a corrupt cop. 

Then Camille had turned up and the fireworks started off the likes Fidel had never seen!  Camille was not slow in challenging the Chief on what seemed to be every small thing but yet they began to work very well together as a team.  The Chief expected input from everyone, not just collecting evidence but also thinking about what it could add, and that had never happened to them before. 

When he wasn’t gruffing about the temperature, or the lack of a decent cup of tea, or something, he was working to bring a standard of police work that in the end almost rivalled any large police force in the world, given their clearance rates.  The Chief was also not slow in letting the Commissioner know that their recent successes were down to the fact he had good team.  In short, before Detective Inspector Richard Poole arrived, no-one had tried to see the team’s potential before or pull them together so much.

Over a period of time, the team had begun to draw closer together and the Chief had finally started to join in some activities, cajoled in to them by Camille more likely but yet it could be fun.  He had also recognised the hard work Fidel had put in, even when Fidel had made a huge cock up by letting a witness leave a crime scene, the Chief had forgiven that and had encouraged Fidel to develop his skills with forensic work and then with putting Fidel through for his Sergeant’s exams.

Now his mentor and colleague lay critically ill in the hospital.  No the Chief had become more than that to Fidel, he had become like a father figure whom Fidel loved which is why when Juliet called by with Rosie earlier, she had found him crying.  Despite the fact she and Fidel were separated while they tried to sort out their marriage, she had hugged him and wiped his eyes trying to reassure Fidel the Chief would be ok.  Juliet had even called Catherine Bordey to let her know she would be happy to sit with the Chief as well.

A sudden wave of tiredness washed over Fidel. He should have gone back home as he was on call and didn’t really need to be at the station, but without Juliet and Rosie, he saw little point in being there, plus he had wanted to be close to the hospital if and when anything had changed.  Slowly getting out of the chair, Fidel paused to look at the Chief’s desk and the empty chair behind it. With a sigh, Fidel turned and opened the door behind him then leaned on the frame out over the town. It was a very clear night, the sky full of stars.  Fidel knew the Chief liked looking at the stars.

With a quiet prayer, Fidel hoped that the Chief, no, Richard - as the Chief did have a name after all - would be able to recover and enjoy the sight of a star lit sky again soon.

“Don’t leave us Chi.. Richard, please. We need you and I think you need us. We’re all family now y’know….”

 

Dwayne raced up the few steps in to the hospital lobby and spoke to the receptionist on duty before heading down the corridor to the small Intensive Care Unit.  He had walked to the hospital rather than use the Enfield as he needed to clear his head as much as everything else.  With him be brought a day old copy of ‘ _The Times’_ he had managed to get from Eldred.

He wasn’t sure if it would do any good, but apparently the hearing was the last thing to go when someone was unconscious, so Dwayne had planned to read some of the articles out to the Chief, especially the success the England Cricket team had had of late (much to Dwayne’s annoyance) during a tour of the Caribbean.  Hopefully the Chief would respond somehow.

When he first met the Chief, Dwayne felt a cold shiver. ‘Pen pusher’ and he was not impressed at the fact the first thing Poole had gone to was a computer!  But Dwayne had scuppered that by ‘swapping’ the CRT monitor as his had broken down. 

No one was talking about Charlie Hulme, who Dwayne liked well enough but who wasn’t very encouraging of his team. Lily would often sit seething with frustration, which Dwayne now realised was a big act.  Dwayne himself wasn’t that bothered but he didn’t like how Hulme – as easy going as he was – tended to treat his colleagues as if they lacked a little intelligence, so that’s how Dwayne acted back.  Fidel wasn’t afraid to stand up to Hulme in a respectful way but Hulme never encouraged the boy either which annoyed Dwayne intensely.

He had seen ‘em come and go over the years, the average secondment as they called it for up to two years but none wanted to stay on permanently when given the option.  Some were good, some just wanted a holiday, some like the Chief were given no choice as either they had upset someone back in the UK or the Commissioner wanted them, and the Chief fit both. Some were rubbish, some were out and out tyrants.

But the Chief was different in the fact he *required* his team to *think* not just do the leg work.  For all his griping about everything on Saint-Marie and his annoying flare ups, the Chief did know about team work and with Camille making sure he didn’t get too huffy and gradually dragging him out of his shell, the team began to work closer together and the results were becoming legendary.  The Chief might fit in to island life a bit or not, but he was already beginning to know what to overlook and what to pounce on and the community forgave him his ‘English ways’ especially when it was realised the Chief took his work as seriously here as he did in London, but with none of the technology to rely on.

Dwayne came to the conclusion being a cop in London must not be fun as they seemed to rely a lot on technology for the foot work.  Saint-Marie had the basics and had to rely on their French colleagues across the water in Basse-Terre. Occasionally stuff had to go all the way to London adding time and pressure to a case.  But usually most of it stayed local as most of the crime was petty stuff, but mostly it was only when foreigners got involved did things get tough and really nasty.

Also the Chief did something else Dwayne liked.  He never once hesitated to say thank you to the team nor did he take all the credit for the results.  As pen pushing and tight as a knat’s ass when it came to procedure the Chief might be, it worked. It really worked.

But Dwayne began to wonder about the ‘banishing’ of the Chief to their little island, of the Commissioner whispering in a few ears in an effort to keep him here because Patterson had cottoned on very quickly what the Chief could do. All the Chief seemed to get in return was bad tea, a small shack , too much sand, sea, sun and now maybe the cost was to be his life.

The Chief deserved much better than that.

 

Selwyn Patterson stared up at the clear star lit sky but didn’t see any of it.  He was stood on the veranda of his home, the home that had seen three children, a near thirty five years serving in the Royal Saint-Marie Police force and a separation. Now he was possibly going to see the loss of another Detective Inspector.

Patterson was a consummate politician as well as a policeman.  He often had to switch between being the senior police officer of the island, a negotiator for funding, a tactician, and recruiter and would be to first to admit often he would have to resort to manipulation to get the results he needed to keep the little force going, get results especially as the tourist trade was beginning to take off and the ever increasing danger of the drug cartels worming their way in as a result.  There had always been an element of trafficking, usually by smaller groups and individuals.  But it was impossible to patrol the whole coastline and when a trusted officer is on the take, the job becomes harder.

Pool was a godsend.  Someone else’s reject because of his character not because he couldn’t do the job, and Selwyn had to wonder at the mind of the DCI in Croydon who was so quick in agreeing to second such a brilliant detective.  Poole was a pain at times, but he got the job done and *finally* was someone who made full use of the talents of the small team he had around him.

But that could end, and they would be back to square one.  Bordey was a good cop and Selwyn half unconsciously toyed with the idea of making her the next DI if it came to that.  He had two big problems though, because Saint-Marie was now a dependant within the British Commonwealth, Whitehall would always insist on a DI secondment and also none of the police committee would ever agree to fund such a post.

Sighing heavily, Selwyn turned to go back to his bed to spent the rest of the night not sleeping.

 

Catherine was up before the sun. She had dough to prepare as she was going to be out for most of the day and her staff would have to make the lunch and dinner menus.  Camille had called to say she was at her apartment and would be at the station for eight.  Catherine insisted that her daughter came by for breakfast first and reassured her daughter that Catherine would stay at the hospital until Juliet could take over, then Fidel if nothing urgent came up.  There were also the stores to sort and stock to check, which would take most of the afternoon. But if Camille needed her, Catherine would drop everything at a moment’s notice.

Catherine thought back to the first time she saw Richard, who for some stupid reason seemed to hate everything French.  He was not the ‘typical Englishman’ everyone thought he was, as he was nothing in behaviour and attitude of the average British tourist and business man Catherine had met. But that was the thing, Richard had not chosen to be here, he was sent then forced to stay and Catherine could understand Richard’s resentment of that. 

She had wanted to kill him at first when Richard didn't realise that not only did Catherine hear his insults but also understood every word he said.  The look on his face when she had made him a simple cup of tea with fresh cow’s milk was worth the effort. So rather than wanting to murder him, Catherine decided on a  charm offensive. She doubted Richard would ever be comfortable in Saint-Marie but she hoped he would settle enough and come round to accepting something of island life.

And then there was Camille. Her wonderfully feisty daughter who was tougher than nails, who brooked no nonsense but who was still Catherine’s little girl.  It had dawned on Catherine of late that Camille was growing very fond of her chief, way beyond their professional relationship. 

It seemed _Erzulie_ was answering Catherine’s prayers for Camille in a way she never expected, in a way she hoped would not happen because she had already nursed her daughter trough a terrible time three years before Richard had arrived on Saint-Marie.  Camille had been assigned to an international undercover team and after a terrible disaster, had been broken both in heart and body as she was engaged to another member of her team who had subsequently been killed.  She did not want her daughter to be hurt like that again.

Also Catherine could not see what Camille saw in Richard Poole. When he had escorted a prisoner back to the UK a while back,  he had only been gone for five days but Camille was restless and almost pining for a man she constantly argued with, who had driven both of them to distraction at times.   Yet Catherine began to understand that her daughter was attracted to Richard’s mind and to something inside of him that was almost sensitive and vulnerable. In short, his defences were beginning to crumble, no longer being able to stand up to a Borday woman who was determined to care.

But now it could end, and the possibility of Camille’s heart being broken again was almost too much to bear.  Catherine stopped still and closed her eyes in prayer..

‘ _Erzulie, Papa Legba, please, please protect my daughter. She has been through so much. And I ask the same for the Englishman Richard Poole as well. Please, please hear me. Please….’_

 

“Hey Dwayne, wake up!”

Dwayne jumped at the voice.  Fidel was standing by the chair Dwayne was sat in by Richard’s bed. The lad looked exhausted.

“What you doin’ here Fidel! You’re supposed to be in your way home to bed!” He chided.

“Yeah, I am, I just wanted to…you know, see the Chief, find out how he’s doing.” Fidel replied quietly.

The two looked at Richard still attached to a ventilator and with more tubes going in and out of him than most houses had plumbing and wires.

“No change I think, been the same all night. I’ve read him about the Tests but I don’t know if it’s done any good at all.” Dwayne said, now on his feet and stretching his back.

They were joined by Casper who had overheard the policemen’s conversation.

“Hey, Dwayne, Fidel.  Don’t worry so much, he’ll recover. He made a choice and came back..”

All three looked at the man in the bed and smiled.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard comes home from hospital to find a he has been given a gift from the local community.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter to a shorter than usual tale. Hope you all liked it but do come back often as I update my tales because there are usually a lot of corrections. I am a slave of the typo monster! Will get started on the next episode soonish but I have a few things on this next week, such as a trip to Nottingham to see Ben Miller in his new play 'The Duck House' and then afterwards, a scifi convention in Plymouth that has been running for 25 years! Go me! ;-)
> 
> As always, feedback welcome!
> 
> Update 8.11.2013! Added a scene in here. Thanks to Million_Moments for the suggestion :D XXX

It took a little time but Richard managed to finally drag himself out through one of the newly refurbished front veranda doors, sitting down on a nice chair that had been given as a present from the local community.

Actually, that was only one gift of so many the community had given.

He vaguely remembered the process of coming out of some sort of dream into a world that was initially terrifying.  There was something down his throat and for a moment he was paralysed.  Then gradually as the fog cleared, he remembered someone telling him that the thing in this throat was going to be removed. He began to panic as the pipe came out and he had started to cough, but a soothing hand and a calm voice was telling him everything was going to be fine and welcome back. He looked towards the source and saw Camille's face come in to view, her lovely smiling face which welcomed him back from where ever it was he had gone to.  
  
And he remembered her touch as being something so familiar and comforting with an echo of a voice telling him she was his....  
  
He shook his head at the memory trying to stifle the emotions it was arousing. It wasn't professional. She was a colleague and a friend, but nothing more..

'Liar!' his thoughts echoed back accusingly.

Richard’s stay in hospital ended up being for over a month while he recovered from a very severe pneumonia which had all but completely filled both his lungs with infected fluid.  ‘Consolidation’ they had called it and it sounded such a friendly term.  But weeks of almost having to learn to breathe again, coughing up the most God awful grunge, wheezing louder than a set of bellows and feeling as weak as a kitten was not something Richard was going to recover from quickly.

When he could walk across his hospital room, not collapse while attending to his own personal care, manage steps and cook for himself, Richard was deemed fit enough for discharge.  Returning to work however was not going to happen for a while.  He had to prove he could stand up on his feet for more than a few minutes at a time before Commissioner Patterson would even consider letting him back through the door of the station.  And that’s something he was not looking forward to, having nothing but time and not the energy to fill it.

‘There you go, complaining again’ he mentally chided himself, ‘you nearly bloody well wind up dead and you’ve got the hump about having too much time on your hands!’

Richard sighed at his own grumpiness.  At what point he asked himself, did life become nothing more than a list of complaints.  He was not unaware of his faults and shortcomings, even to the point of starting to apologise to Camille about them when they were stuck in the university sub-station during the storm earlier in the year.  But those parts that found him wanting in social situations were what made him successful as a detective.  Yet he began to realise after a while he also used them as a shield, so he could not be hurt again by those who would use that to marginalise him, and he had been stupid enough to let them.

Craning his neck, he looked at his little shack he had been living since January, he marvelled that a place that was so primitive - compared to his small maisonette in Croydon - was a place he had his worst and best moments to date and felt a lump rising in his throat at the memories.

 

Two days ago he was sat in the Defender as it carefully made its way along the sandy track from the coast road to Richard’s shack.  Camille was driving and he had noticed a small half smile on her face widening as they got closer to their destination as they rounded the corner. Richard’s jaw dropped when he saw a large banner across the top of the veranda with the words ‘Welcome Home Richard!’ painted in bright letters.

“I know you don’t like surprises Richard, but *try* to be gracious about this one.  There’s a lot of feeling and goodwill gone into making you comfortable.” Camille had chided, “Don’t go spoiling it!”

He couldn’t respond but only nod mutely as then he saw Fidel holding his wife’s hand who was carrying little Rosie (When did they make up?) followed by Dwayne in a bright Caribbean type shirt and straw hat, Catherine Bordey and Commissioner Patterson himself.

Richard remained stunned as Camille opened the passenger door and guided him out.  Walking the few feet to his small house and up the steps on to the veranda made Richard gasp but there were willing hands to help him.  Once they got Richard around the corner to the front veranda, he was then able to sit and catch his breath. It was then he noticed the changes to his little shack, the doors were different, updated and more secure, with screen doors as well. 

The back extension had been rebuilt offering more space, even for a small table in the kitchen.  The bathroom was something to behold! A proper shower in a proper cubicle, with a screen and a solid door, and water that actually flowed at a decent volume and rate!  The air conditioning had been replaced, there were solar panels on the roof, everything.

It left him speechless. Yet the shack was pretty much the same in style, which Richard liked. Even Harry still had a small opening where he could come and go.

“I..I don’t know what to say..Who..?” Richard asked after a moment of catching his breath. The tour around his refurbished home had tired him out.

“Everyone, the whole community did this Richard. It’s our way of showing you that we care, and to say thank you of course for your work.” Camille replied with a big smile.

He dared not reply to quickly as his emotions began to spiral and ducked his head.  After a moment or so he was just about able to mumble “Thank you everyone.”  Camille realised then it was time to leave Richard alone for a while, not just because he was tired but also because he was getting overwhelmed with all the attention.

They had all said their goodbyes and when the last vehicle had disappeared down the sandy track,  all Richard could do was to sit down and cry.

 

That was then and he still couldn’t quite take it all in.  He was embarrassed by the fact since his mum's death, especially during his hospital stay, he was frequently tearful. He had always buried his sadness in the past, but now he couldn't no matter how hard he had tried in the last little while.  Confessing all to Casper and also Camille about that, his confusion and fears about his feelings in general when they came to visit over the previous two days seemed so strange, so alien.  But no one pointed fingers, no one condemned or mocked.  Both reminded him that on top of being critically ill, Richard was also starting to grieve for his mother and that both would take time to heal, so he accepted that.

Now easing himself in to his bed which had a blissfully comfortable new mattress, Richard pulled a sheet up and turned on his side.  As he did so, Richard's eyes fell on his mother’s silver jewellery box on his bedside table, which caused his eyes to briefly well up again.

“Miss you Mum..” he whispered as his eyes began to close. As he drifted off in to a peaceful sleep, he smiled at the light gentle motherly caress to his forehead.

 


End file.
